Always Needed, Newly Wanted
by musemonster
Summary: Joker/Batman Slash. MovieVerse. Thats about it. Slight BDSM. WIP.
1. In The Heat Of The Moment

**A/N- Hey. My first take at batman/joker slash. This is, like most of the rest, movie verse. It takes place right after Dark Knight. And don't be fooled by this chapter, the following WILL be full of sex (the graphic kind) and cursing. This is most CERTAINLY an M fic. Oh yea, Don't Own blah blah blah, Make No Money blah blah, No Flames blah blah...AND, don't expect rapid updates. Sorry, but thats just the way it is. **

Joker swayed back and forth on his butt while holding the toes of his shoes as he over looked the old church he had wired to blow. This rag-tag chapel, one of the oldest in Gotham, had become the cities pride and joy. The community had pulled together to restore the dingy thing. It was reopening tomorrow, after it went up in flames, of course.

"Sure..." Joker deepened his voice and stuck out his paste covered chin, "some paint and pews and some gasoline and a match...as good as new!" He fell back laughing and kicking his feet in the air like the mad man he is. A timer went off on his wrist alerting him the building had three minutes until combustion. "I shoulda brought some popcorn, I should have." He mused to himself and looked down at the street below, he was sitting on the ledge of the adjacent building to the church. The sirens then went off and broke the city-silence.

"Could it be?" The Clown Prince of Crime batted his eyelashes and looked up to the sky. The Bat signal. "Yes, yes, yes! The Batman will be making an appearance tonight, folks!" He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted down to the empty street. There wasn't much action going on at three in the morning, after all. "Batman should make it in time for the fireworks! Ah, what would I do without him?"

And just like that Joker fell back into his head like a VET having a war flashback. To the days before Batman, and all the fun they share, when he was alone. So alone. Even before the paint, before the scars, people looked at him differently. Not that he really cared. Strange was all the rage! But the solitude? Its no fun to laugh alone. So he made them laugh! All of them. But even when they giggled and twisted in maddening fear, he knew that those normal people, those Joe's and Jane's, they weren't like him. He couldn't talk to them, couldn't relate to them, there was no one to laugh with! But, that all changed when The Batman flew out of the skies to smite him down. Finally! Another weirdo, another freak! But the vigilante had morals. Bah, he had a bad case of denial, that's what he had. Batman refused to see how perfectly he and the Clown Prince fit together-one day he would.

The roar of an engine snapped Joker back into reality and out of his deep thoughts to the task at hand. Batman had arrived! Just in time too, with only 40 seconds to spare.

"Glad you could join me!" Now Joker was laying leisurely on his stomach propping his head up with his elbows and kicking his feet as if he were watching TV.

"The bomb, Joker, where is it?" Bruce only knew of a bomb in this vicinity, he didn't know where exactly.

The purple suit wearing clown frowned. 'Always just business.' "Well I'm afraid you're too late. You see that building over there." He pointed a long finger with a pout to his face. "It's scheduled to blow in, oh I don't know...30 seconds." Even from his perch above the Bat Joker could see the other mans eyes pop open in surprise.

Batman's cape flapped as he turned and charged into the church.

Joker blinked, dumbfounded, before his heart clenched in fear. "Lunatic! I said 30 seconds, not 3 minutes, he doesn't have the time!" Being resourceful he found a drain pipe screwed into the side of the building and slid down it with some difficulty. "What does he think he's going to do, anyways?" Joker screeched to himself and made his way toward the time bomb of a church. He started to laugh menacingly at the irony of the situation. Batman was a fool for storming into a soon-to-explode-church and Joker was a bigger fool because he was chasing Batman into said church, and for what? Just so he would never be alone? So sad. He laughed harder.

His hand was on the door knob and everything went white with heat and light. Joker flew back five feet and hit a garbage can like a bowling ball striking a pin. His vision was shaking and he didn't really feel his wobbly legs moving toward the flaming mess of a church that was, somehow, still standing.

He could not hear the cracking of the wooden roof as flames licked at it from all sides, and Joker could not hear the sounds of the fire truck making its way to them. He could, however, feel the paint on his face getting warmer as it slid down his cheeks and forehead as he stumbled closer to the wreckage; and he could feel the worry churning in his gut. 'Alone? Again? Nononono, I can't be alone again!'

He was working more or less on autopilot, the fire was spinning now and the scene vaguely reminded him of a sick fun house.

"How delightful," The mad man said lazily to himself as he staggered into the flaming threshold. "Where, oh where, has my Bat gone? Oh where, oh where can he beeeee?" His singing was full of hurt and was not laced with its usual full-hearted insanity.

Joker spun around wearing a frown, his arms whipping at his side in an attempt to save his balance, and he caught a glimpse of a black mass on the floor, under a beam. "Damn it." A smoldering beam from the ceiling was smothering Batman, who seemed to be dead, or possibly unconscious, but either way the caped man wasn't moving.

Weary of the quickly collapsing ceiling, Joker slid into the room and avoided being touched by any groping flames. He leaned down to examine his fallen Bat and tried to pull him out from under the over grown Lincoln Log. It was not working. This time the whole building moaned and cracked as if the frame were going to snap any second, and Joker heard it.

"We don't have the time, so," He placed his palms on the burning wood and, "push through the pain!" He hissed, both verbally and through his flesh, as the skin on his palms quickly cooked and sizzled. Why the _hell _wasn't he wearing gloves? "Grahh!" With one final exertion of force the Clown Prince had shoved the giant sized kindling away.

Thankfully, Batman had fallen on his cape and his feet were pointing toward the back door, otherwise there was no way the smaller man would have been able to move the Bats heavy body. Joker snatched up the bottom of the cape, wrapped it around the fallen mans legs and dragged Batman out of the dying church. He ignored the prickling sensation stabbing his blistered hands as he squeezed the cape along.

The back door was locked, and on fire, was there no end to this maze? The green haired man groaned in frustration and slight panic as he began to wheeze from the lack of oxygen. Joker threw himself at the door. His shoulder smacked against the burning sealed exit, once, twice, three times and it burst open.

Relief came in rolling blows of cool oxygen rich air as he came stumbling out of the hell house. Coughing now he haunched over to listen for, yes, it was still there, Batman was breathing. Hopefully he didn't breath in too much of the smoke? Joker used the last bit of his strength to pull the Bat away from the wreckage and into the car he'd stolen two days earlier. Without a second to spare the heaving criminal peeled out leaving the fiery scene in his rear view mirror as the fire trucks started to circle the building.

He sighed heavily, stopping at a traffic light, even though there was no traffic and all of the police in the city were currently storming the church he'd just blown sky high, he still stopped at the red light. He twisted his lithe torso around to face his 'enemy'. Joker leaned in closely. "Don't scare a person like that, Batsy!" He shouted and rocked back and forth in his seat. He sighed. "Now, what am I going to do with you?"

Joker found himself wanting to reach out and touch the caped crusader, and why not? Who was going to stop him? The Clown Prince gingerly reeled his hand toward the other man's face, eager to feel skin to skin. He gently pressed his finger tips to the smooth pink flesh of Batman's bottom lip and gasped at the softness he could feel even through blistered hands. Joker whined. He wanted to feel more skin...but this wasn't the right place or time. "Your coming home with me, Batsy!"

**A/N-Eh, so what do you think? Yea, I know damn it. Nothing special. But I promise the next chapter will be better. This was kind of the awkward ice breaker that really cute guy makes an attempt at before you and him go in the back bed room and fuck :) **


	2. I Have a Better Idea

**A/N: Yes this took a while, but remember I warned you! **

**Well this is chapter two..and I cant think of a title. **

**After you read it you should send in a suggestion!!!**

**As always reviews are much appreciated...**

**ANDDD A BIG THANK YOU TO MY GOOD FRIEND (and beta) MISS MONTANA! **

Joker always kept a staff of young thugs on hand, so when he pulled up to the old plane hangar he was currently using, he had two of them carry the Bat inside.

"Be gentle, goddamn it." Joker was a bit nervous after all that had happened. "Do you know what I had to go through just to make sure he got here?" He was shouting orders and threats left and right. "If you hurt him I'll shove a bomb so far up your ass you'll taste it before you explode!" No one breathed without his blessings.

A nameless, brainless, thief with oil smudges on his face and bulging arms more grunted than said, "He's strapped down, boss," and leaned against the iron door awaiting further orders.

"Good, good." Joker was painfully pushing on his dark purple gloves. He didn't want anyone to notice the nasty blisters; he didn't want anyone to know he had risked his life for Batman.

"Now, do me a favor and get lost? Eh?" He stood hunched over, neck sunken in and toiling with a kitchen knife. "In fact, I think that it might be best if, all of you left. Go have some fun, and don't come back. I'll call _you_." He pointed the short yet sharp implement in his hired hands direction. "Bu-bye, now!"

The brute hurriedly fled the room.

Joker sighed and tossed the knife aside, deciding he wouldn't need it.

Bruce woke himself up with his terrible wheezing. It was so loud it stirred him from a dead sleep.

His chest hurt with each rise, as if a weight were on his lungs. Did he break a rib? His head was throbbing like the inside of a drum, he opted to keep his eyes tightly shut. The crime fighter didn't remember a thing and searching in his computer like brain was only aggravating his headache. Last night was a fragmented blur-Joker, or maybe a fire? He could not remember.

Something faint, and light, was tickling his chest. A cold finger tracing around his right nipple, perhaps? Someone shifted on top of him-Bruce snapped his eyes open.

"Hi there, sleepy head!" Joker smiled down at him while sitting on his groin and still toying with the exposed flesh.

Bruce was horrified. The vigilante sprang forward at a more erect angle. He tried to bring his hands up to shove the clown off him but found both arms to be bound at the wrist via rope and his legs bound in a similar fashion. He was also nearly naked. Though his boxers were still on, the absence of armor frightened even Batman. He was defenseless.

Something across his nude chest caught his eye. He was sporting a swollen rectangular bruise that seemed to glow a malevolent purple. It covered the entire length of his torso. This explained the awful byproduct from breathing. Bruce was silently panicking. He realized his cowl was still on and panicked a little less. "Joker. What-" He was cut off by a gloved finger being pressed to his lips.

"Quiet now. Your wondering why your here, half naked, handcuffed to a bed with little Ole' me sitting on top of you?" He made a sympathetic face and nodded up and down as he spoke.

Bruce glared and shook his head, deciding it was probably best to humor the Clown Prince rather than biting his finger.

"Well, you see, uh, you ran into a building that, like I said would, exploded with you in it!" The man shouted and shook his free arm in the air above his green head and coincidently added friction between their hips. Bruce ignored it. "And _I_ was kind enough to drag you out. I, uh, saved your life." Joker removed his finger, curious of what the Bat might say.

Bruce was silent for a moment. His brain spinning, searching the archives for an answer, any recollection, a memory of any kind from last night. He vaguely recalled seeing the bat signal...Gordon informed him-the church. He remembered arriving at the chapel. But that was all; nothing else registered.

"I don't believe you." There was no plausible reason explaining why the purple suit-wearing fiend would risk life or limb for his behalf.

"I figured as much." Joker clumsily got off the masked man. "So, I'm going to show you." In a painfully slow motion he pushed off the thick purple coat and then continued to unbutton the green vest. He hummed a little ditty Bruce didn't recognize while he worked at the buttons on his under shirt now. "And, my proof..."

He ripped off the unbuttoned shirt to revealed a lean and _ghostly white_ body. Bruce was surprised to see that the other man wasn't deathly thin with grotesque protruding bones, just thin...almost, healthy.

For reasons unknown to Bruce he started his scoping at the bottom of Jokers torso, noticing the slim cut of his pelvis and the faint happy trail, dark pink nipples...and finally, the meaning behind the madness, an angry dark mass pulsing on his left shoulder and breast plate. It was a nasty green, purple and yellow bruise.

"Pretty, right?" He sighed and poked it a little. "I earned it after running at a locked, _flaming, _door trying to get us out of a burning building without the coppers seeing you unconscious in my arms."

"And I'm sure you had nothing to do with me being unconscious in a burning building." The detective was pumping full of adrenaline. He wanted nothing less than to rip away from the restraints and choke this pasty-faced freak.

Joker laughed hysterically and nodded his head knowingly. He licked his lips and lurched forward, holding up his hands as if he were trying to clutch something near his chest and hold it close. "I _tried_ to tell you. I _**tried**_." His voice deepened, sounding almost demonic. "I told you, and you didn't listen. You _never_ listen."

The masked man leered up at the insanity that was personified through the Joker. He was hardly intimidated by his behavior. "Why would I listen to you? Why would I believe you now? You're a murderer."

"Because," he had snapped back and seemed calm again for the moment, "I've never lied to you." The Clown Prince of Crime was suddenly no longer engaged in a locked glared with the Bat. He was now busying his gaze on the masked man's lips. His eyes were hooded and glazed with mischief.

"When have I ever lied to you, hmm?" A lick of plump lips. "When have I ever steered you astray, Batsy?"

Batman hid the spark of pain in his eyes as Joker put his weight on his tender chest to lower himself on top of the masked man. The crazy clown swung one leg over Bruce's body and straddled him around the waist. The pressure between them stirred an odd sensation from the millionaire, though his poker face revealed nothing.

Joker slowly peeled off his leather gloves as he sat perched on top of his prize. He hissed when they were both removed.

Bruce looked at 10 inflamed digits with white dead skin cresting over a new layer of pink flesh. A few fingers were scorched to the first knuckle and others were weeping puss or blood.

The captive glanced over at the vicious wound, knowing it must hurt. He wished the clown all the pain he could possibly receive, though, Bruce still wondered vaguely how he might have earned the second degree burns.

"A beam fell on you," The criminal began, as if he could read the others thoughts, "yah know, one of those big logs from the ceiling." The pasty man pointed up. "It was on fire, too. I hadda shove it off with my bare hands." He playfully displayed the raw flesh to his guest jazz hand style.

'Why, why why? This makes no sense. He makes no sense. Damn this insane party clown! He claims to of saved my life, but here I am, strapped to a fucking table. He has an angle..._' _Batman's brain was grinding forward. It hurt to think. Every gear within his skull was sputtering, ebbing on failure. This situation, it wasn't clicking. Joker was being...kind, in the only way he knew how, yet still kind.

Joker smiled lazily down at his captive and blurted out with the utmost randomness, "You know, I realized something when I thought you were going to be cooked like a Christmas ham. I realized that I not only need you," a pause, "I want you."

"Want me?" Bruce more mouthed the phrase than actually spoke it. Joker had made it clear many times before that he needed Batman. He said with exasperation that the caped man 'completed him', but want? Want Batman, for what? He glared up at the man hovering above him like a demented angel, utterly confused.

The clown patiently waited for Batman's eyes to do the talking. His lovely blue glare slowly softened and melted like the ice they mocked in color as the picture was made clear. Joker repeated, "I _want_ you."

A vital gear snapped within the hero's psyche.

Bruce was about to protest, about to correct him, yell at him, curse him-something, but his thoughts flew when Joker began to kiss his chest.

His initial response was total shock when the ghost of a touch caressed him, barley there. Primal reflexes took hold and the masked man sighed with rapture. The faint touch grew more confident. The criminal ran the pad of his thumb over the other pink nub, the peeling skin only added to the friction.

Bruce cursed his over sensitive chest and let out a erotically irritated huff.

Joker spoke through soft kisses, "I need you. I've always have, Batsy. Before we met, it was always you." He giggled suddenly with his open mouth pressed against the hero's taunt skin. "I was so alone." He groaned and leaned back up to peer into his captives eyes. "And I found you." Joker started grinning with more intensity now. "You deny it now, but you're _just_ as desperate for it as I am." His eyes were glowing hungrily.

Batman wired his jaw shut, clamping down hard. Was he implying..."I don't need you! I don't want you!" The very idea made his stomach churn and bubble over with sickness. "We aren't the same, Joker."

"Oh, but we _**are!**_" He chirped and bounced up, coming down on Bruce's hips again but this time with more strength. The tycoon gasped quietly and jerked.

Joker acted like he didn't know what he was doing, he only gyrated his hips and continued laughing loudly. "We ARE! We are, we are, we _**are!**_" The clown accented each word with a thrust into his captives groin, exciting muffed sounds of pleasure.

"You and I," he pointed with a slight of breath, "we're made for each other! I know you better than any one on the planet, and you know that I'm right. No one gets to see this," he paused and glanced down at Batman's stomach and stroked the flat belly with spade fingers, "this, _side_ of you."

The Clown Prince sighed and leaned in closely. Joker gasped and slid his hips against the other man's loins, back and forth at a agonizingly slow pace.

Bruce couldn't deny the intense sensation streamlining his body. He wanted it to end, and yet... "Stop."

"Never." Joker was too involved, too intoxicated, with all the little noises his bat was making. He took one hand and ran it up and down Batman's side. The Clown Prince of Crime was careful of every bruise and every scar, giving each special attention.

"No one else will ever accept you like I do. No one will ever need you, want you, love you, like I do." Joker kissed the divide between Batman's pec's and moved down laving at the skin every now and then until he was sitting between the others spread legs and face first in the Bats happy trail.

The clown panted lightly, "I always knew you had a gorgeous body, even through that damn armor." He nipped at a fading bruise bellow the other man's navel.

Bruce groaned lightly and bit his lip trying to suppress the traitorous sound.

"Do you like that?" Joker looked up and raised his brow while rubbing a hand up and down Batman's chest.

The bound man didn't say anything. He felt disgusting, why was his body reacting like this? Mind over matter, mind over matter.

Another gentle bite to his chest and Bruce moaned uncontrollably.

Why can't he ignore this? _'I don't want it!' _Bruce's eyes rolled back as Joker slipped his hand up the leg of his shorts and scratched the sensitive skin on the inside of his thigh. His dick twitched in anticipation.

Bruce cursed his new life style that had left him sexually unsatisfied for too long. The Dark Knight had no time for girlfriends, and he couldn't let some random gold digger see his maimed body. In truth, Bruce hadn't been laid in months, leaving his libido starving.

"Tell me what you like." Joker whined between kisses. "Tell me what you need." Another nip to over sensitive skin. It was a mantra, a string of seductive please. "Tell me what you want." The clown started to slowly pull down Batman's white boxers while bitting his own lip provocatively.

"I want you to stop, goddamn it!" Bruce growled and thrashed around as he felt his foe tug at the last scrap of clothing he had on.

Joker crawled up Bruce's hard body, pressing his bare chest up against the Bat's, more skin on skin. He rubbed his chest up against his captives, tracing his sides with his seared palms.

He pressed far into Bruce's personal space, so close Bruce could feel the breath coming from Jokers nose, and it made the millionaire uncomfortable.

Joker could feel Batman's dick beneath him. The masked man was already growing hard. It stabbed his own cock as he pressed against the vigilante, it made the mad man moan shamelessly into the nook of Batman's neck.

_"Get. Away. From. Me." _Bruce was seething, though relieved that the criminal had stopped stripping him of his shorts.

"You're so hard."

The proud super hero wanted to refuse the accusation, but he couldn't deny it now. He was steadily becoming more and more aroused. And every time that psychopath shifted Bruce was aware of how _good_ it felt to have Jokers hot body _rub _up against his own.

The Clown Price of Crime watched his obsession think quietly, but then interrupted, "I want to see your face."

Batman froze.

"I want to take it off," he reached for the mask and Batman held his breath. Joker pulled away. "How about this, if you promise to enjoy yourself, I'll let you keep that ridiculous mask. Sounds good?"

Again, Bruce fell silent. What was he supposed to say? The very idea...it made his skin crawl. He couldn't have this psycho see his face.

Joker looked at his eyes, they were shifting back and forth wildly and glazed over with fear. He had never seen fear there before, the Clown Prince of Crime didn't like it. He leaned down, so his scarred mouth was hovering over the other mans lips. They were so close, once he began to talk he could feel his own lips faintly touch over Batman's. "I promise, you'll enjoy it."

The Dark Knight shuddered like a sheet of paper in the wind and swallowed. He didn't have to

say anything, they both knew that Joker had won when Bruce's body went lax. What could he expect? He didn't know; he had an idea, though. It seemed as if his fears had been confirmed when Joker ran his hands down the other mans rib cage then slid off the bed.

He came back with a bottle of lubricant. Bruce averted his gaze back to the humming lights. He vaguely wondered why the criminal would even bother with lube if he was just going to rape him. The fear multiplied and divided within the bound man like cells at work.

Meanwhile Joker had stripped himself of his shoes and trousers. He stood, now, in his silky green boxers showing off his slim form with his hips slightly sticking out in a odd pose.

Bruce noticed the Clown Prince of Crime had a small waste and long legs, that of almost a feminine nature. But he wasn't a woman, that was evident by the green tent between his legs. The clown stalked closer like a cat and crawled up Batman's strapped body.

"I'm going to take care of you." He reassured and pawed at the vigilantes chest, drawing lines of irritated skin behind his nails. The criminal sat between the Bat's spread legs and bowed his green head as if in prayer to kiss Bruce's jutting hip bone, laving it with moist lips.

Bruce squirmed, the sensation climbed up his body and down his loins. It all only intensified when Joker began to nip at the skin and graze a canine against the bone. Bruce groaned again and balled his hands into tight fists. He liked teeth.

He closed his eyes, he didn't want to watch. He didn't want to see his body succumb to this mad mans advances. Bruce could feel the swelling growth between his legs and shifted, wanting to relieve that tension.

Joker seemed to be able to feel the sexual frustration rolling of off Batman, he wanted to help him with that. The clown pulled his hand away from the Bats stomach and slid into Bruce's shorts.

The millionaire gasped and popped his eyes open when he felt a confident hand reach in and

wrap around his length. Another guttural sound of pleasure passed his lips and it only encouraged his keeper.

"No ones been taking care of you." Joker said softly as he stroked Bruce's straining cock. "How long has it been, Batsy?"

Bruce felt his head get heavy as it fell into his shoulder, he moaned uncontrollably and found it hard to find the words. It felt so good. Too good to be right, but not wrong either.

The clown sped up his pace and began fondling his balls with the other hand. "Tell me; when was the last time you had a _good fuck_." The criminal sounded so sexy, his words were lewd but Bruce loved it.

"Uhgm, t-hen, ten months." He was panting like a dog.

Joker purred and crawled closer to Bruce's dick and arched forward as if to swallow the whole thing, but then stopped.

He was watching now, he couldn't help it. Bruce's eyes glued on to the criminal, the man he was supposed to throw in jail, the same man that he wanted to suck his dick right now... Bruce could feel the hot breath of that same man roll against the head of his cock in soft blows and it was driving him crazy.

"Can I?" Joker smiled sinisterly and opened his mouth wide like a hungry child.

With the scars it was like his mouth was twice as big, so big with plump red lips. Batman quivered and his hips jumped up uncontrollably. He groaned, not wanting to say it. The millionaire thrusted his hips toward those delicious lips to show what he wanted. No luck.

"Tell me what you want Batsy."

"I want you to..." a moment of hesitation, "suck my cock." He almost whispered. Then again with vigor, "Suck me off!"

Bruce could have sworn he saw the Clown Prince of Crime shudder at his words, but that could have also just been his vision shaking as Joker wrapped his hot mouth around his cock.

His head fell back with a thud. He hissed through clenched teeth and cursed. "Hmm, oh, fuck yes."

The criminal made little gasps of pleasure around the Bat's hard dick. Joker stroked his captives thigh and slapped the twitching muscle.

Bruce jerked his hips up into the other mans mouth; he arched up again and again, he didn't even hear Joker gagging on his length.

The clown didn't falter, he kept sucking and bobbing his head. He wore a torn smile the whole time.

The millionaire gathered the strength to glance down at the man blowing him. His green mop-top head rocked steadily to meet every short thrust. Bruce groaned and tried to bring his hands to that green head of hair so he could push those sinful lips closer. He growled like an animal when he couldn't reach out and touch him.

Bruce's breathing became ragged and short, his hips were jerking wildly now as a tight ball of heat expanded in his lower abdomen. He went rigid, he was so close. "_Ah, fuck. Oh fuck yes_." A litany of cursed spilled out, he was going to-

Joker suddenly ripped his mouth away from Batman's dick, panting and wiping his mouth with his arm.

Bruce groaned and threw himself to the full extend of the cuffs in the clowns direction. He was aching everywhere and needed release. "Don't you _dare_ stop _now_!"

The Joker, still breathing heavily, looked up at his Bat with hooded eyes. "I'm not stopping, basty." He licked his lips, though slower than usual. The clown moan loud and long, "hmmm I want to taste you so bad." He ducked down and licked Batman's weeping head as if he couldn't help himself. "But I've got a better idea."

**A/N: Yep, that was it. What do you think? We're they too OOC? Be honest**

**ALSO! Remember I want suggestions for this chapters title! Please gimme your input!**


	3. Only If You Remember

Bruce was aching. He had been so close, and then it stopped. He could barely think straight, let alone register anything his keeper was saying.

The Clown Prince was shaking. He had _the _Batman's thick cock in his mouth and oh, the noises he had been making...Joker groaned. He was rock hard. It hurt to move.

"I need you, I want it. I need you now," he was barking like a mad dog; random tremors shivered across his frame. He reached behind his back and pulled forth the bottle of lubricant.

Bruce saw the small plastic bottle and didn't feel the same lurch of fear spring up from the pit of his stomach as he had before. It was different. Something jumped, but it wasn't fear. Excitement? No. That couldn't have been it.

The slick sound of liquid shooting out of a cap dragged the millionaire out of his head and back to the real world. Joker was squirting an incredibly tiny amount of lubricant onto his fingers.

The Dark Knight was sure that this meant he was going to be violated. He squeezed his eyes shut, sealing them closed to block out the invasive world all around him.

A slew of heavy panting and moaning broke the silence into shards; it gave Bruce chills in the all the right ways. Somewhere in his fractured mind the detective knew what he would be looking at, and he wanted so badly to watch. His eyes peeled apart.

It was a beautiful sight. Joker looked as if his pale skin were glowing while kneeling above Batman's strapped body. His head was thrown back, his stringy green hair springing out in every direction. The criminal's pasty throat jutted out and his Adam's apple bobbed slowly up and down. "Aghhh" His thin arm was reached around behind his body, his hand out of sight, and yet Bruce knew exactly where it was...

The millionaire hadn't thought it possible for his dick to swell any harder, but it did. Bruce moaned.

Joker heard the call and wrapped his smaller hand around the captive's length and pumped it vigorously. "Do you want to fuck me?" The clown's voice was breathless as he demanded an answer.

The millionaire pushed into the tightly coiled hand, but was not able to respond. He jerked his head to the right when the sensations became too intense.

"Do you want to fuck me?" The insane man questioned again, this time with more passion, and pulled his hand back into view.

That was it. That was the last straw.

Bruce groaned and his hips jerked violently at the thought. "Agh, fuck. _God_, Joker _yes_!"

A wicked smile inched across his torn face, "Yes what?" He was going to make him say it.

The Dark Knight groaned, but without misery. "Yes!" He clenched his teeth. "I want to fuck you!"

The clown quivered and came closer. He brought himself up so that he was kneeling above the vigilante's stomach with his back facing the other man. Joker turned his head with owl-like flexibility and positioned Batman's erection just right.

The hero's breathing hitched as the head of his dick was being pressed against the other man's body. He looked up at the pale skin of Joker's back. _'Like porcelain,' _he thought. He marveled at how soft it seemed, save the portion that was splotched with color from bruising. Bruce wanted to trace every pretty scar and wound. He writhed with excitement-- needing this so badly. He not only needed it, he wanted it.

The clown watched those pleading icy blue eyes with a craned neck and licked his bottom lip. "Just remember, you wanted it." Joker shook as he fell back and impaled himself on the Bat's cock.

Their instantaneous cry was like a dirty chorus.

Bruce's body snapped up in a beautiful arch and his hips slammed forward uncontrollably. Batman was leaning on the table with his back propped up at an angle so that he could see down his torso. Joker sat on his captive's groin while using his bent legs on either side of the Bat's body for support. Though the position they were in made movement difficult, Bruce was still driven to curl into the smaller man's body. The Bat groaned and threw his head back as he pumped his hips to a violent cadence.

Joker sobbed as his stringy limbs went weak from the sensation. He moaned and met each short thrust in time by pulling himself up and coming back down. Batman slide in and out of his body viciously; the ministrations were overwhelming. Joker had to brace himself with his hands against the Dark Knights legs when it got so rough he could barely stand it. "Aha!" He felt as if he was being torn apart but the pain pumped pleasure throughout his veins.

"Uggh, so good Batsy, hmm s'good," he mumbled incoherently. Bruce hit his prostate. "_Fuck_. Oh yes! Fuck, ah yes. Uggh, fuck me Basty." He was babbling as he took each deep penetration.

Bruce groaned throatily. He was close. "Let me touch you." He moaned breathlessly and extended his right arm as far as the restraints would allow. "I want to touch you."

There was no contemplation. Joker used one hand and skillfully unbound his right wrist with such a speed it would have put Houdini to shame.

Before Bruce could even get the blood to circulate in his hand he blindly located and began fisting Jokers weeping cock in time with each buck of his hips. "Do you like that?" he growled.

The clown whimpered like something broken as Batman fucked his ass and pumped his dick roughly. He couldn't speak at first. "Aha," he gasped, "yes. Oh yes, Batsy!" His words were strangled and then cut off completely as a string of moans flew out. Joker went rigid and thick bands of cum came spurting across his and Bruce's abdomen.

Bruce's vision went white before he saw stars bleed across his sight as Joker climaxed. He spasmed uncontrollably around that tight heat; it was more than the hero could take. Batman painted Joker's insides as he reached the peak of a spine splintering orgasm.

The millionaire shivered. His mind was fuzzy and his body tingling. It took all his strength just to breathe. Bruce looked up at the fatigued body above him and blamed the post-orgasmic euphoria for the feelings of passion he was experiencing.

"Hmm," the smug clown was glowing. Joker pulled himself away from the Bat's dick and turned around only to collapse on top of his captive. He found himself to be too weak to do much else. For moments after, the criminal suffered slight tremors pulsating through his spent body in rolling waves from his orgasm.

Bruce quickly began to fall from cloud nine. Why did this feel so right when it was clearly **wrong**? The vigilante sighed and bludgeoned these thoughts back into the deepest corner of his mind, to his closet of skeletons, with a hammer.

"So," Joker sighed into a sweaty dip on the Dark Knights lean stomach, "was it good for you too, baby?" he crooned.

Though the bound man couldn't see it, he could feel the maimed smile spreading against his chest.

The hero flinched at the comment. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it when he realized he couldn't think of anything to say. Bruce became aware of his hand-- his right hand; the same that he had used to jerk off that mad man-it was free. It was free and moist with the evidence of what had been done.

The criminal pushed himself up to look at the other. "You could hit me, if you like," the Clown Prince said pleasantly, as if he could sense the internal conflict swarming inside the other man.

Bruce understood the message and looked away. This was not a statement or a question. It was an offer. His captor wasn't saying 'well you could hit me if you wanted and probably escape, too.' No, instead the inferred meaning was 'you can hit me as hard as you like if it'll make you feel better.'

The vigilante blinked. "No." Batman started to pull up his shield again. However, the weight from his body -Joker's warm body- kept the walls from reeling up. "Why did you do this?"

"Me?" Joker squealed. "Why did _we _do that!" He corrected loudly. "Remember what you wanted. I didn't do anything you didn't want." The clown pushed his nimble fingers through Batman's and held his hand tightly.

Bruce ignored the slick squishing noise squeezing from their pressed palms. He suddenly felt uncomfortable with the intimate gesture and sneered at his hand as if it had betrayed him. "Was it to break me? Because it won't work." He simply dismissed the previous statement as if it wasn't even there.

The criminal smiled knowingly and shook his head slowly to gesture 'no'.

"I don't understand!" Bruce growled threateningly and pulled back his hand. His fingers curled back into a tightly wound fist and his arm shook with rage; he didn't raise his hand to strike.

Joker frowned. "I_ told _you." He absently stroked Batman's forearm, his fingertips lingering on an engorged blue vein. "Why don't you ever listen? Maybe you did...I wasn't lying earlier." He giggled in an exhausted way. "I meant _everything_ I said."

The phrase, though vague, meant so much.

Bruce shook his head in defiance. He could not accept that, he couldn't. "How can you say that? You don't know the meaning of the word. You **don't **know what you're talking about."

Ambiguous words such as 'everything' and 'that' all eluded to one not so vague statement made earlier.

~No one else will ever accept you like I do. No one will need you, want you, love you like I do. ~

The strangled chain of words hung unspoken in the air-hung like a too short noose inside Bruce's head.

"I love-"

"Shut up!" The Dark Knight thrashed. "You don't mean it! You're fucking crazy and you don't know what the hell you're talking about!" Still, his balled fist hadn't left his side. Why was he so adamant about not hitting this madman?

Joker leaned in closely, intimately close. He looked Bruce in the eyes and straightened his neck. "Do you really think I don't mean it?" His eye lids were at half mast and his mouth plump. He looked as serious as he could wearing that permanent smile. "_Really_?"

Bruce struck out. Like lightning his hand flew out and his fingers coiled around that slim ivory throat. He would rather twist this fragile neck than answer that question.

The clown gasped pleasantly and leaned into the constricting touch. His eyes rolled back and then shut.

It was at this moment when Bruce noticed just how much paint was gone from the criminals face. Most of the white paste had either melted or been smudged off by now. In some rare spots he actually saw what could be considered skin. It was odd how true flesh looked more out of place and fake than did the white face-paint.

Tightening his grip, the bound man clenched his jaws as he angrily drained the life out of the other. Batman marveled at the warmth and softness of the ivory skin beneath his palm. '_Pliable porcelain,' _he thought idly.

The criminal swallowed slowly and Bruce could feel the skin slide up and down over hard bone, he could feel the Adam's apple bob. Bruce suddenly remembered how good it had felt inside that throat.

Joker moaned and shifted what must have been his arm. Batman assumed he would soon try to pry away. The clown gasped again but it was much raspier than before. His eyes popped open.

Never before had Bruce noticed the captivity of Joker's green eyes. The twin pools were glossy and glowing with an intensity that only the insane could posses. Why couldn't he look away? The orbs were beautiful –lovely- in every respect. They harbored so much it made the millionaire's head spin. There was no fear in the stare however, no anger or guilt either. But lust did swim in each fuzzy iris. The green bands were saturated in something else too, something Bruce couldn't recognize.

Joker's balance was shaky as his blood cells screamed for oxygen. Soon his balance grew shaky when the need for breath became too much. The green haired man fell forward. He caught himself by planting the palms of his hands on both sides of the captive's body. Now he hung directly above Batman's face.

Despite the jerky fall Bruce still couldn't bring himself to rip his attention away from that green gaze. He did, however, tighten his grip, which had gone slack.

The clown's reaction was immediate. He sporadically ground his pelvis against the other man's thigh and a dry breath cracked in his throat. Joker writhed as a nearly silent cry rolled through his dry lips.

Bruce didn't seem to notice.

Whether it was to satisfy his own animosity or enhance the pleasure of the suffocating man, the Dark Knight refused to release the pliable jugular. Batman watched those burning green eyes. He expected the fires to start to wither, grow weak or fatigued, however, that passion never dissipated.

Bruce growled, threatening those unmoving eyes to do something -anything. The personal stare was not broken.

Batman suddenly realized the body attached to the esophagus he was strangling was shaking, and so was the table. Joker's hip bones were stabbing against his thigh with a familiar rhythm. A violent spasm shot Joker's spine and rocked him into an angelic arch. He climaxed for the second time that night by Bruce's hand.

Directly after feeling the wet pool shoot across his thigh Bruce yanked his hand away from the ivory shaft.

Joker gasped for air in a loud howling inhale. He forced himself backwards, tumbling off the table. For minutes, the Clown Prince remained down, content on tasting the sweet oxygen and listening to the hypnotic beat of his swollen veins surge through his skull.

Post-orgasmic and glowing, the clown found his pants on the floor and pulled them up around his slim waist. He bounced up with a smile and politely tugged up the elastic band of Bruce's briefs. Now both men were decent.

Bruce watched the soft length of the criminal's throat closely. The skin was still red and irritated all over, finger-tipped blotches freckled the shaft. The bound man could still see an outline of his own big hand around that neck -he could still see himself choking the Clown Prince.

Joker noticed the Bat's gawking and stroked his Adam's apple. He started giggling quietly but the hushed joy soon escalated and rose to a roaring laugh. "Hoo", he had to gasp for breath, "Hoo, haha, who woulda, ha, ha, he, who thought Batman would haaafve a kinky side?" He bent over and squeezed his bony knees. "A lil, erotic asphyxiation, eh?"

Bruce growled, swung his arms, kicked and shouted. He was furious. "Let me go!" He began to tug at the _ridiculously_ well tied knot. "I've had enough of your games!"

"I'll let you go," the clown said simply and spun around on his bare heel.

Confused like never before the detective was surprised with the criminal's response. _'He's letting me go? Just like that?'_

All but skipping over to a table in the far side of the room the green haired man seemed delighted. He talked from somewhere out of his captives line of sight, "I feel like you should have bought me dinner, or something," when the other didn't respond Joker continued, "you can try all ya' want. No one gets outa my knots."

Bruce noticed the timber of his voice was changing -he was walking closer. "This doesn't change anything. I am going to put you away."

"Oh! Of course not, I wouldn't expect it to."

For some reason Batman could hear a pitch of sarcasm tainting the criminal's speech.

"Though," Joker started off conversationally, "I wish you'd remember a few things."

Why did this killer look hurt, and why did Bruce care?

"Remember, I didn't take your mask; I didn't hurt you, and…" he paused and pushed his hand into the other man's face. It hovered so closely the millionaire could make out each angry blistered finger. A white cloth was shoved under Bruce's nose. The last thing the hero heard before the chloroform kicked in, "and remember you wanted it."

A/N

I'm very sorry this took so goddamn long.

I hope you like it!

And, just in case there is any confusion, THIS IS **NOT** THE END!

There will be more chapters...eventually....ducks and hides from random rotten fruit


	4. Evidence

Chapter Four

**A/N**

**Few things.**

**This chapter is considerably long considering there isn't any Joker/Bruce interaction. **

**Also I just wanta apologies cause personally I don't think this chapter is supersuper exciting. But I DO think that it is important. This story is getting a lil bit less PWP as I continue lol**

**And, I'm introducing an OFC. She's short lived, don't worry! The only one for Bruce is Joker.**

**Lastly, I don't know if this is important but in case you want it, here is the basic time line so far...**

**Monday 10:00 pm Batman goes on patrol(Last time Alfred sees him)**

**Tuesday 3:03 am Church blows**

**Tuesday 2:00pm Bruce wakes up for first time**

**Tuesday 4:00pm Bruce sniffs some chloroform **

**Wednesday 2:00amBruce wakes up for second time**

**  
I HOPE YOU ENJOY!**

EVIDENCE-Chapter Four

Alone, unbound, and redressed in his bat suit, Bruce woke up on the floor in a foreign room. Though he didn't know it, he'd been unconscious for 10 hours. The vigilante clutched his skull with both hands in pain; apparently chloroform worsens head aches.

Batman examined his surroundings. He was in a small dark room that reeked of dust and decaying paper. It appeared as if no one had occupied this space in months, probably years. The detective glanced down at the wooden floor. A thick film of dust carpeted the surface. Bruce could clearly see a trail were a man's bare foot had padded across the floor and peeled up the dust. He could also see where his own heels hand been drug across the same path. Joker had put him in here.

Bruce shuddered. Everything smashed into his awareness at once. The fire, the fact that Joker had told him not to go in, and then the blow from the bomb. Everything was blank until he woke up beneath his...enemy...and he, they, what they did-that came back, too. How long had he been gone?

"Alfred," Bruce gasped suddenly. The only remaining human thing inside him began weeping with worry. The closest person he had to family was probably going insane right now. He groped his utility belt for the tracking beacon. He needed to contact Alfred now. He needed his friend.

With great dismay, Batman realized anything he had that could send out or receive a signal was gone. He marched toward the door it was unlocked and popped open with ease. Cautiously the vigilante stalked through the hallway and around a corner. He recognized where he was.

Now standing in the same room where Joker had kept him hours ago, Bruce felt his face grow warm. _The_ table was there, near the center of the room. He couldn't believe how small and fragile it looked from a distance. The table was as old as anything else in the room, it's a wonder the ancient thing didn't snap.

On the floor, around each of the four legs, lay the same coils of rope that had held Gotham's hero to the table. Bruce noticed how a ring of dust-free floor circled each leg where they had moved over and over again. The masked man closed his eyes and sighed heavily. He looked up and saw something black and small on the table top.

Quietly walking over to the object the Dark Knight realized it was a cell phone. Bruce dissected the small phone, looking for anything suspicious. When he was satisfied he flipped it open and dialed.

Without even finishing its twang the other line connected as Alfred answered. "Hello?" His voice was strung and weak. He hadn't been sleeping.

Bruce felt his heart crack a little with guilt. "Alfred, its me."

"Thank God," the butler sighed quickly with relief. "Where are you? Are you hurt?"

The millionaire smiled sadly. "I don't know, Alfred. I'm not hurt. I just don't know where the hell I am. Can you find me?"

"Of course, Sir." Moments later the butler had an answer. The masked man could hear through the phone as Alfred pulled his things together to head out. "The Vincent Plane Hanger."

Bruce snorted. The Vincent family had once been the leaders of the crime industry in Gotham years ago. Falcone had shown up and took over the 'business' in the 70's; the private landing strip went under. It would appear Joker had made good use of it.

"I'll be waiting outside." With that, Bruce ended the call with a sharp slap to the top of the flip phone and put it on the utility belt. He glared down at the table and felt a bout of frustration charge through his frame. It mocked him. The dry wood was pale and faded in color, it looked lifeless and it should have meant **nothing** to him. But it **did** and he hated that.

Anger swelled within him all too high. In one great blow Bruce swung his arms up above his head and slammed all his force down onto the back of table like an enraged ape. The powerful blow shattered the ancient wood into dozens of pieces under his hands. The whole room seemed to shriek, or maybe that was Bruce.

Still not satisfied, the masked man collapsed to his knees and pounded his balled hands against the wooden floor. He screamed at the indifferent boards until they, too, snapped into splinters. Now he sat on the ground, arms limp at his sides, and waited for the dust to settle.

After the dirty gray cloud dissipated Batman felt better. He went to the front door and peeled it back just an inch to look out side. He didn't see any one, which didn't surprise him. The hanger was in the middle of no where. The masked man quickly left the building behind him.

Forty-five minutes later a familiar limousine came awkwardly bouncing down the dirt road. When the lengthy car came closer the caped man rose out of the shadows and jumped in.

With a grunt Bruce fell onto the soft leather seats and pulled off his cowl. It was nice to feel safe. He sighed with his eyes shut and when he opened them a very unhappy old man was glaring at him.

"Master Wayne, if I had the strength any more I'd put you over my knee!" Alfred looked like a flustered old owl with his body twisting like that to stare at him. "You were gone for two nights!"

For a second Bruce felt as if he were thirteen again and in big trouble, but then he realized that his old friend was more scared than angry. "I'm sorry Alfred."

The old man was quiet for a moment and then turned back to face the not-road.

The vigilante was thankful Alfred had chosen the limousine. Usually it would have been impractical, but any other car he had wouldn't be large. Also, the tinted windows served him well. It would be a little conspicuous if Batman was cruising around in the back of one of Bruce Wayne's sports car's.

Once they were home and in the garage, the tycoon mustered more conversation. "I was gone for two nights?" he asked softly, more to himself.

"Yes. Officers at the Church said you were in there when it happened. It's been all over the news. When I couldn't contact you I had the Batmobile drive itself home hoping you'd be in it." Alfred paused for a moment to clear his throat. "Bruce, what happened in there?"

The younger man looked down and shook his head.

Alfred frowned.

Bruce felt like shit for not explaining. Alfred deserved an answer. But what was he supposed to say? _'I was MIA for two nights because I was too busy fucking Joker. Sorry old friend, I must have lost track of time...' _

He wanted to punch himself. "Tomorrow, I promise, I'll tell you what you want to know." He clapped the older man on the shoulder and smiled, "But right now I really need a shower."

The trek up stairs to his room seemed to last forever. It felt so strange to be walking through Bruce Wayne's house in the Bat suit.

When he reached the bathroom Bruce began to peel off the suit in front of the mirror. His maimed body had never horrified the rich boy before, why would now be any different?

What he saw drained all the color from his face.

His torso was freckled-covered- not in bruises, but in white and _red _paint. He froze to stare at his reflection. Most of his mid stomach was white where Joker had pressed up against him so closely, and his nipples were blotched with bright red. A trail of lip-shaped stamps lead down the center of his abdomen to skin that was still cover by his pants. The stunned man remembered how those torn lips felt so soft, and his tongue, too. He groaned and leaned on the counter, his legs suddenly weak. The millionaire looked down to catch his breath and he nearly screamed.

The rim of his boxers, which were barely visible under the pants of the Bat suit, were not white. **His **boxers were white. Plain, c0otton and white! The elastic band wrapped around his waist was **black**. He rushed to force the armored pants off, even though he really didn't want to see...

Joker's silk green boxers snugly clinging to his body.

Bruce wanted to cry at his reflection. What kind of sick joke was this? Without the pants he could see more paint-on his hips and thighs, it was everywhere. The most horrific lay there on his thigh, a splash of dry crusty white-and that was not paint. He started shaking. He was covered in _Jokers' _paint, wearing _Jokers' _underwear and had _Jokers' _dried cum on his leg.

"Jesus Christ." The shaking got worse. "Get off of me!" He shouted crazily and torn the green shorts away from his body. Without glancing at his nude reflection Bruce stormed into the shower.

Needing the comfort of the near boiling water Bruce arched his neck to face the head of the shower. The water was so hot the room crept with steam and it made the millionaire dizzy. "Get off," he repeated sadly and began laving his moist body with a cloth. _'I said get off. I told him to get off of me, but is that what I wanted? I let him. Is that what I wanted?' _

Bruce choked back another cry_-_he needed this _**evidence**_ gone and his thigh needed to be washed first. He glanced down and seeing the stain was so surreal. It was right there, right below his hip. He remembered how the splotch got there, _'his throat was in my hand...' _His dick jumped at the thought. Bruce growled and scrubbed it away, though he still felt dirty.

The paint was still there. But the cream was so thick and oily, the water just beaded on top of it and the cloth only spread it further. He threw down the hand towel and began using his blunt finger nails.

Scraping and clawing at the white and red paint only irritated his own skin. Between the steamy hot water flushing his skin pink and his own nails dragging across his lean chest, he was turning just as red as that paint. The only patch of skin that wasn't red was the purple block of bruising. Soon he couldn't tell the difference between his flesh and the red paint. So, he scrubbed everywhere.

Bruce screamed and dug his nails in deeper until he saw an all new shade of red. The crimson collided with pearly white soap and water. It dripped down and it was everywhere. Bruce couldn't escape the red. The bright color reminded him of those lips...

"What's happened to me?"

Only once the water ran frigid cold and his finger tips had begun to welt did Bruce step out of the shower. His muscles were lax and heavy, it seemed to be a chore to wrap a towel around his waist.

The young tycoon shuffled past his shell of a suit and stopped to look down at the shiny green shorts. Bruce knew he couldn't leave them there, Alfred would want to clean before he'd even be considering waking up. He silently scooped them up with his right hand. What should he do with it?

Angrily the millionaire marched up to the waste basket and held the flashy fabric over the bin. Just like that, he could throw them away-he could! He didn't. Bruce hung his head and crumbled up the boxers like a paper ball. He stuffed it away in the back of his night stand and fell backwards on his bed. Just like that-soaking and in a towel-Bruce slept.

Alfred walked into the master bedroom around 10:00AM to wake the young man. He had every intention of yanking the sheets off and all but demanding an explanation for the twenty eight hours he was missing.

That had been the plan, however, when he reached the bed and saw Bruce sprawled out on the mattress, his aggression evaporated. Bruce had a blue towel tucked around his waste, one leg hung from the edge of the bed and his mouth hung open. He looked like a mess.

If this had been any other situation Alfred might try to throw marshmallows in his mouth from across the room, like he had when Mr. Wayne was still a boy. But he wasn't a boy any more, he was a troubled man.

Uncovered and exposed the butler could clearly see the malignant purple mass on the other's upper chest. Alfred's brow knitted together. He approached the bed to get a better look. Until now the old man had assumed that Bruce had _not _been in the explosion, this nasty bruise seemed to say otherwise. And his stomach was covered in scratches. The irritated lines of red looped all around his taunt torso. These weren't like any injury the old man had seen before.

The bat suit would have protected him from something this small. _'Was his suit removed?' _Alfred was about to walk away and allow his segregant son to sleep a while longer when the young master started to stir.

"Alfred?" the nearly asleep man asked groggily.

The butler sighed and pulled together a pleasant smile before he turned around to face the other. "Yes?"

"What time is it?" The young tycoon raked his hand over his face in an attempt to wake up.

"It's 10:15, sir." As more time elapsed, the more worried the butler became. He stood awkwardly fidgeting with his cuff's.

Snorting when he realized he'd fallen asleep in the towel, the young man got out of bed. He looked down at the Bruce Wayne-sized wet spot on his bed and decided he didn't care. "What do I have to do today? Had anyone noticed I was missing?"

"You have a meeting with a Miss Katie Ross at four. And I'm afraid other than Mr. Fox and myself, no one noticed Gotham's rich boy missing." Alfred cleared his throat and approached the other. "Bruce," he began softly and sat down in a chair across from the bed. "Tell me what happened."

The younger man nodded and walked toward his dresser. He wanted to put some clothes on.

Alfred politely looked away while the other slipped into some sweat pants. When the bed squeaked the butler turned his face up and waited patiently for an explanation.

The millionaire sat with his arms at his side and stared down at the carpet. "He told me there was a bomb before I even went in the church." He started by avoiding names. "When it blew, he was still outside. He was safe and could have left but he went in and got me. I wasn't even awake." Bruce wanted the bed to swallow him. "When I woke up he had me tied down and my suit was gone."

"Your mask?!" The butler went white.

"No, he...he didn't take that off."

Alfred tried another question,"Did Joker do that to you?" He motioned toward his scratches.

The millionaire flinched at the name and subconsciously pulled his arms over his flat belly. "He didn't hurt me." The young man's eyes were getting dull.

Irritated with the vague replies Alfred sighed. "So what, then? You two just, talked for twenty eight hours?"

Bruce coiled into himself further. "I tried not to- but he said things and I didn't believe him." He started shaking his head in disbelief at his own words. "And then he was nice, and Joker-he, he touched me." Bruce moaned in horror, "Oh Alfred, he touched me!" His words were haunting and shaky before he stood up and started to scream. "I couldn't stop it! Do you understand, I couldn't stop it! It's not my fault, its not my fault!"

"Bruce, Bruce!" Alfred was up in an instant to hold onto the young man's face. He tried to get Bruce to look him in the eyes, but with no success. Alfred was scared and confused. He hadn't seen Mr. Wayne so hysterical since the death of his parents. "What isn't your fault?"

With a head hung low as if on a noose Bruce confessed,"I liked it." The invisible noose of guilt and shame tightened around his throat and threw his head up to face Alfred. "What's wrong with me?!" Bruce hissed angrily in the older man's face. "What did he do to me, what's wrong with me?"

**A/N **

**Eh, what did you think?**

**I feel like I really disappointed you guys at the sake of making Bruce break down like this. **

**Again I thought it was important to describe how he's handling the after math.**

**Though....I don't know if this is how he would have handled it, with Alfred I mean. Do you think he would have talked to him?**

**IDK! But I wanted him to crack and act human.**

**Well...I'm expecting major angry comments for this one, honestly.**

**BUT!!! I already have the next chapter written...I and my beta just have to pick through it, so that should be up soonish...**

**IM SORRY!! **

**I WILL MAKE IT UP TO YOU! **


	5. The Truth Hurts

**A/N**

**I want to thank everyone who reviewed for chapter four because I wasn't expecting a sea of response for that one. But I'm delighted you nice reviewers did write to me! Thank you!**

**YOU SHOULD READ THIS! IMPORTANT!**

**I'm doing another POLL type question. **

**Info at the end of the chapter.**

**Answer me in a review!!!**

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It was 4:00pm now and Alfred and Bruce hadn't spoken to each other since the confession six hours earlier. The older man wanted so desperately to comfort his sergeant son-but he didn't know how. Furthermore, it didn't seem like the young millionaire was interested in talking to anyone.

Bruce hadn't been seen since he told his life long friend to go away. It was all too obvious that Master Wayne was not in the mood for any group therapy.

The butler, though wanting to nurse the wounds his young friend was harboring, knew the gesture would not be appreciated. Even if he did get the chance to speak with Bruce-what would he say? Joker had forced sex on Batman and Bruce enjoyed it, Alfred didn't know how to approach that. He had tried to keep himself busy by cleaning and preparing the pent house for their company but Alfred couldn't stop worrying about what he had heard. _'Perhaps I should call Mr. Fox, maybe he needs a doctor...' _

Just as the thought entered his mind a rarely used door bell sung out and the Butler straightened his suit and approached the door. Alfred was worried, he didn't know if Bruce was ready for this. The last thing they needed right now was some woman running to the paper's saying Bruce Wayne is a lunatic with a hard on for the Joker.

"Hello, Miss Katie Ross?" Alfred opened the door with his bright smile.

A young woman with brown hair and blue eyes stood at the threshold. She was taller than the average female and slim, but shapely. An air of confidence rolled off of the guest in a powerful way. Everything about this woman screamed strength; her nearly arrogant smile and her stylish yet slightly masculine pant suit made her appear so aggressive, yet beautiful. She looked like a lawyer. She looked like Rachael.

"Hello." She looked past Alfred and into the house. "Is Mr. Wayne here?"

_'Gold digger.' _the butler thought cynically. Alfred spared a moment to shoot a side ways glance at Miss Ross. "Why yes he is. Would you like to come in, please sit down." He beamed and bit back his witty tongue. With a gloved hand extended he led Miss Ross toward a sofa.

"Thank you." She sat down softly and crossed her legs at the ankles.

"I'll go fetch him, if you'll wait right here." Alfred felt like he needed to stress the 'wait right here' part. He had a creeping suspicion this prowler would snoop if given the chance.

She folded her hands in her lap and looked up at the older man. Suddenly she didn't look so threatening. Katie nodded gently and offered a small smile.

Alfred walked away, peering over his shoulder as he went, and made his way up the stair's. Once on the second floor the butler could feel the resonance of a thick bass and drum-driven song coming from the exercise room. "Bruce?" He knocked on the door, though, not to his surprise, his knock fell on deaf ears. As the old man pushed open the door he could now clearly hear an alien tune playing, some young-person music that he didn't recognize.

Somehow the millionaire heard the soundless door softly swing open and waved his old friend in. Bruce was facing the wall-sized window on the side of the room opposite the door. He was shirtless and sweaty with a towel slung over his shoulder.

Alfred stayed at the door despite the hand gesture. "Miss Ross has arrived."

"Tell her I'll be down in a second." Bruce turned around and he looked like a new man. He was calm and composed, it was as if nothing had happened.

_'That's just like him,' _Alfred thought, _'He's going to go back to normal and pretended it was all a bad dream.' _"Might I suggest some cologne. You stink." He waved a gloved hand in front of his nose in a show of mock disgust.

Bruce chuckled and started walking toward the door, probably on his way back to his room so he could go get dressed.

"Bruce..."Alfred began and the younger man stopped at the door. "Never mind."

"I'll be down in a few." The millionaire walked out and down to his room.

Meanwhile Miss Ross occupied herself on the sofa. She had brought the day's newspaper with her and had begun to read. The cover page was titled, DENT DEAD! THE BAT TO BLAME?

"Hello." A silky voice from across the room forced the young woman to jump in her seat. She flattened the opened newspaper on her lap and glanced up to see Mr. Wayne smiling down at her.

"Hi. I'm surprised you agreed to meet with me." She started to get up in order to shake his hand but Bruce waved her back down.

He noticed it right away, she looked so much like Rachael it hurt. "I'm a little surprised, too." He stared at her a moment more and stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Why did you want to meet me?" Was he, flirting?

She smiled shyly before her face washed out in seriousness, "_Mrs_. Dawes' maiden name is Ross and her brother is my father. I'm Rachael's cousin from her mother's side." She paused for a moment and pursed her lips. "She talked about you a lot, and I know you two were close. I just-well, we don't have any family in Gotham anymore. We just want to know what happened to her. What really happened, not just the police report."

Bruce stood for a moment and stared at the floor thinking. _'Well, that would explain the resemblance.'_ Rachael had talk about her cousin Katie before, though he had never met her. The Ross family lived in Oregon, at least, thats what he remembered. The millionaire cleared his throat. "I'll tell you what I know, but, I'm hungry." He still hadn't eaten since he'd been home. "Would you mind if we talked over dinner?"

Katie nodded timidly and creased her newspaper into a neat square.

Bruce noticed the cover page, "You shouldn't read that garbage."

FOUR MONTHS LATER

"How do I look?" Bruce had been wrestling with a tie for ten minutes now. He had always hated wearing the damn things, but tonight he wanted to look nice.

"Like you don't know how to tie a tie." Alfred said dryly and swatted the other's hand away. With a theatrical flick and taunt pull, the older man had fixed the unseemly knot his sergeant son had tied. "There, how's that?" The butler marveled at his handy work through the mirror.

"Thanks." The millionaire was wearing the tie Katie had bought for him, as a gift. They had been dating for months now and things couldn't be better.

Miss Ross was kind and smart, she wasn't interested in his money and she had a world of patients for him, well, for Batman (even though she didn't know it).

The young man was thinking about changing that, though. He wanted to tell her about his double life. Bruce wanted to tell her that he is the Dark Knight.

Though, probably the most amazing development from the past four months, there hadn't been so much as a peep from Joker.

"It's just about time for you to go. You told Miss Ross that you'd be there at 7:30, sir." Alfred reminded him and left after patting the younger man on the shoulder.

"Yea, I'll be heading out soon. Hey, Alfred, I want to tell you something." Bruce sighed and straightened up slightly, he was smiling widely.

"Hm?" The butler looked inquisitive.

"I'm going to tell Katie, and before you try to stop me, I've already thought about it and I've made up my mind. She's wonderful, and she understands me. I'm bringing her back to the house tonight, and I'm going to tell her." His words didn't leave much confusion, or much room to argue. He wouldn't be convinced to change his mind. God damn Wayne-attitude, if you asked Alfred.

The older man's face twisted in conflict. He sensed this was a bad idea. "Bruce, if you think this is best...but, are you sure?"

"I, I love her." He spoke with strength, but his face betrayed him. Bruce was nervous and worried. "I've got to go."

Dinner was pleasant, and the walk through one of the nicer parks was going well, too. Bruce was feeling flushed and youthful. He constantly rubbed the small of Katie's back and kissed her neck. She crumbled into each playful touch until it seemed they would need more privacy than the tree to the right of the bike path.

"Come home with me." Bruce said breathlessly into her ear.

Katie made a small sound of approval and arch off the tree into her boyfriends strong body. "I think we've waited long enough."

They hadn't slept together yet. Bruce made it clear that he wasn't after a physical relationship, also Katie had always seemed all too pure for fucking on the first date.

Bruce growled and promptly scooped his date up bridal style, deciding he couldn't wait for her to walk, and made his way back to the car.

That night Bruce Wayne's speeding rivaled that of Batman's. He had never reached his pent house so quickly before.

"Come on, baby, get the door open." Katie was lithely rubbing up against the millionaire from behind; her hands came around his waste and boldly began to unfasten his belt.

The front door swung open and both lovers ran inside and up the stairs. Try as they might to stay quiet for Alfred's sake, the trip up to the master bedroom was accented by trips into walls and rapturous gaps. Perhaps they had drank too much wine?

Bruce sought out Katie's smaller hand and led her through the door and into his bedroom. With little effort the man pulled his dates arm and she came gently flying into his chest. She used nimble fingers to pop open each button on his shirt and quickly peeled it off.

"Hmm, your amazing." The woman moaned into her dates chest, planting hungry kisses down his taunt stomach and back up his neck.

Bruce cupped her face and stared at her for a moment. "Are you sure?"

Katie bit her bottom lip and nodded eagerly.

The millionaire smirked and kissed her slowly before she started to walk backwards toward the bed. "I need something out of the bathroom, I'll be right back." Bruce, with some effort, turned around and quickly dashed into the bathroom. He needed condoms.

Briskly walking into the expansive wash room Bruce began looking for the box of rubbers buried somewhere under the sink. "Ah-ha." He said happily, bounced up and caught a glance of his reflection. Something sunk in his gut.

The red paint was back. It was there, on his torso, so bright and red and beautify evil. Bruce tentatively stoked his lean abdomen in a way of inspecting his flesh. He was afraid to touch the red paint-afraid it might suck him in somewhere he couldn't get out. What if Katie saw-what would she think?

Katie! Bruce growled at himself when he realized this paint was her lip stick. He wanted to smash the glass but, instead, decided to turn of the light and return to the vixen waiting for him in his bed.

When Bruce closed the bath room door his eyes quickly adjusted to the dark light. He could clearly see Katie under thin black sheets leaning over to root around in her purse. "Oh, so you've decided to join me?" She said huskily.

"Didn't want you to start without me." The millionaire spoke lowly as he crawled onto the mattress.

"Maybe I already did."

Bruce moaned at the thought and was under the modest sheet in a flash. His large hand found purchase on her thigh as he laid down on top of Katie. He wanted to devour her.

The woman mewed and ran her soft hands along his lean ribs as he kissed her passionately. She wanted it just as bad.

"Wait." Bruce sighed and hung his head between his shoulders. "I need," he was slightly out of breath, "I need to tell you something, first." It wouldn't feel right if he didn't tell her the truth.

"Oh god, you don't have AIDS do you?" Katie squeaked.

The millionaire laughed. "No, nothing like that." He pushed himself off of her smaller body to spill the beans. "I'm not exactly who you think I am."

Katie pulled a pillow from behind her head to cover herself up, feeling slightly uncomfortable.

"What do you mean?"

Bruce sighed again. "What if I told you," a hesitant pause, "that I moon light as a vigilante?"

_'Could you have phrased that any worse?' _He mentally kicked himself.

Katie was wide-eyed and quiet. "Batman. Your Batman." She was smiling. "You **are **Batman."

Honestly, his girlfriend of four months displayed a reaction polar opposite of what he expected."You aren't, scared, or angry?"

"No!" She jumped up out of the bed and began rummaging through her purse on the night stand.

Bruce was ecstatic. He felt relieved and even loved. He was so overjoyed he didn't question why Katie was pushing him against the head board and straddling his waist. He didn't question why she starting attacking his mouth with her own, and he didn't notice when she pulled out a pair of handcuffs and a revolver. Before Bruce___noticed_ _anything,_ he was cuffed to the bed and had a barrel to his temple. His breath got caught somewhere in the shaft of his throat and Bruce couldn't say anything.

"Oh come on, no surprise?" Katie had wrapped her coat around her naked form and was now sneering down at the other.

"Katie, I don't-" He was so confused.

"My name is** not **Katie, it's Kathryn Roseline, what a quinky-dink, eh? I'm one of the reporters Rachael used to work with. We always talked about how we could be related, we looked so much alike. She also ran her mouth about you a lot. Always on and on about Bruce Wayne this, Bruce Wayne that-but she also bitched about Batman all the damn time. So suspicious. When ever I asked questions, she shot me down. I figured it out, eventually.

"When I thought I had all the pieces together she up and died. So I couldn't get a confession out of her." The lack of compassion made Bruce furious. "I made a decision that day, I was going to become Katie Ross and I was going to make you fall madly in love with me." Her face twisted into something of a mock pout.

"Of course I knew you would be on the rebound, all hurt and wounded after losing Rachael. She was 'with' Dent, but everyone knows you were hot for her." She pulled something out from her purse-a tape recorder. "I'm guessing thats why you went **bat** shit crazy and killed him."

Bruce was ebbing somewhere between heart break and boiling anger. He trusted her-and all she wanted was to expose him. Katie-_Kathryne_, was a two faced bitch and Bruce had **trusted** her. The detective wasn't sure who he was more angry at, this whore or himself.

"I'm just surprised it took so long for you to sleep with me! Jesus Christ, you little girl. I figured we'd be screwing long before I'd get a confession out of you." She jingled the tape recorder. "Hm, too bad. I bet you would be a great lay." She smirked and cocked her head to the side.

"You goddamn bitch! This won't work, I'll stop you." Bruce was shaking with rage.

"You're going to stop me? Ha, is that a threat? Are you going to kill me too, like you killed Dent?" She was suddenly hideous. The imposture stood with a nasty grin and shoving the still recording tape nearer her captive.

Realizing the tape was still on, Bruce silence himself. "You won't get away with this."

"Watch me." With the strength of a professional pitcher Kathryne slammed the cold metal revolver against the bound man's skull with a dull thud.

Kathryne had hardly made it out of the pent house before she started making phone calls. "I've got it, John. It took four months but I've got a recorded confession."

"Who is it? Who is Batman!?" The man chattered on the other end of the line.

"Your going to have to wait like the rest of the public." She grinned devilishly and lit a cigarette. "Just start flooding the papers with my name and get me on every TV in the nation. I'm gunna be fuckin' huge." A funnel of smoke flushed out of her nostrils like the dragon she is.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**A/N-**

**That whore. I hate her, don't you? I hate her. Women muck everything up, don't they? **

**(((nvr mind most of my readers are chicks and Ima girl...DAMN THOSE FEMALES! lol)))**

**ALSO! I've noticed that I've received most of my reviews for chapter three...which was the smuttiest chapter. **

**(((coincidence? I think not!))) **

**So, because I want reviews and because Joker/Batman sex is adored far and wide, I want another sex-scene soon. **

**However, (((ANOTHER POLL-ISH QUESTION))) would you rather have two chapters up sooner, one chapter not sex and one chapter sex, or just one big chapter with both...it'd just take me longer to write? LEMME KNOW! **

**Regardless, Joker WILL be in the next chapter, I PROMISE! **

**.**

**.**

**.**

**REVIEW! **


	6. Scheduled Program

_I'm not even gonna try to defend myself. Please don't eat me. _

_But I would like to thank my new Beta, __dollhouseDISASTER for keeping me on task and helping me so much!_

%%%%

After redressing and dragging his precious hostage into the back filing room, Joker bent down on his knees next to his favorite super hero. Still without gloves the crazed clown ran the pads of his finger tips along the smooth black surface of the cowl. '_Who's the man behind the mask?'_

_  
_Without trouble he could lift up the cowl, he could have many times. "No," he barked out loud. "Not like this."

Noticing his charred fingers weren't hurting anymore, the criminal looked at the ten digits. _'This is so sad. I can't even feel the burns anymore. I can't feel anything, unless I'm touching him.'_Joker clenched his jaw and glanced down at Batman with uncertainty, as if the hero might have escaped.

"You make me feel," he started quietly, talking in the darkness in the most intimate way, "human. You make me feel human." He shook his head and choked back something that would have been a sob, **if**he were human. Joker leaned in close to the other man's face, "How do I make you feel?"

The Clown Prince waited, he wanted an answer. He really wanted an answer. He wouldn't get it, at least not tonight.

%%

**FOUR MONTHS AFTER THE NIGHT AT THE HANGER**

Depression had seized the criminal master mind. He had found purchase at some poor guy's house and had told his lackeys to scatter until he wanted them again.

After the night in the hanger Joker didn't know what his next move was. For a man without a plan, he was always prepared. Joker **always**knew what he wanted and he **always**knew how to get it and he **never** doubted himself. Now, however, all he could think about was what, _who_, he wanted. _How_ he was going to get it, was the plan he didn't have.

A hodgepodge collection of knives, matches, and needles were strewn about the living room where the clown sat on the floor. He had to keep his hands busy.

"Of all the ridiculous things," he grumbled to himself and dropped the dead weight of his arms between his legs. He was sitting Indian-style and rocking slightly, trying to think. "Of all of the things that could ruin me, an emotion does it." Huffing the clown straightened his legs from underneath him and stood up to fetch a pop sickle out of the garage freezer.

"Ya know," Joker said with a sigh as he swung open the freezer door, "you're the only person I've talked to in weeks." He looked down at the owner the house, who he had affectionately named 'Poppy' and placed both hands on his frigid cheeks. The man's skin was now stiff with frost and a cracking noise could be heard as the clown pulled his face around for a better look. "But you won't be telling anyone about my babbling, will you?" He smiled and dropped the frozen skull with a thud. "Yeah, that's what I thought."

The criminal leaned into the freezer and pulled out a purple pop sickle, seeing as all of the red, yellow and green were gone. Without closing the door on the freezer, Joker leaned up against the white wall of the box. "Who woulda thought the best sex of my life would lose me my desire for mayhem? I just don't feel like killing anything. I need a psychologist, or something, 'cause this isn't healthy." He glanced down at the human ice-pop and wondered how he had managed to shove a grown man in there like that without ripping limbs apart.

"You're no fun, Poppy." Joker shut the door and walked back into the living room while sucking on the frozen purple ice. He glanced at the TV which had been left on just because Joker didn't turn it off, and tried to interpret the corny soap opera. The random sitcom served as comforting white noise until a familiar name flooded the audio.

"Interrupting your scheduled program to bring you The Batman's true identity!" With a force that should have twisted his neck clean off, Joker spun around to glare at the screen. "Kathryn Rosaline, local reporter from _The_ _Gotham Times,_has a recorded confession," said a stuffy news anchor behind a large desk. "She will be playing the tape tonight at 11pm, but with who is still up in the air." The image on the screen flashed from the news anchor to a slim brunette talking and laughing with a man.

The sound from this image was muted as the anchor from before continued to talk. "Seven news programs across the country have offered large sums to get Rosaline on their schedule. She says the story will go to the highest bid-" the screen shattered and faded to black as the livid clown chucked a paper weight at the screen.

"I'll kill her. I will. I'll kill her." He chattered crazily and rapidly pulled up his coat. It was nearly nine in the morning, not a practical time to be walking around Gotham.

Growling the clown looked for the home phone. He laid his arms against the counter top and slid everything off and papers and dinner plates went flying in his rage. "Where's the fucking phone," he screeched madly and slung a ball-shaped centerpiece into the wall where it stuck.

He whipped a T-shirt off of the shelf by the door and found his prize. Practically pouncing on the device Joker angrily jabbed his gloved fingers at the numbers and dialed one of his soldiers. "We've got things to do."

Hardly an hour later had a van pulled up to 'Poppy's' house and drove Joker away.

%%

Bruce was pacing his living room so vigorously a dug-in track would soon start to swallow the carpeted floor where he walked it.

Considering this was only the day after Kathryn had chained Bruce up, she had done a good job of flooding the media with her news.

"Maybe we should take Lucius' advice and just leave Gotham? You shouldn't be in the city when the tape is played on national television. Everyone knows where you live!"

"No, I can't. I-" He was promptly cut off.

"What the hell, Bruce? This has gotten out of control. That woman will sell your secret to those media sharks and you will be put in jail! Bruce, you will be thrown in jail with all the criminals YOU put away!" He was raving and hysteric. He was afraid.

"That's not it, Alfred!" Bruce clenched his fists and pressed his white knuckles onto the back of the sofa for support. He leaned there for a second and growled with his head down. "The last time someone tried to go to the media with my identity, The Joker held a hospital ransom and demanded that the little bastard be killed. I don't think he will be as kind this time."

The butler was silent for a moment. Joker had not been so much as uttered since the night Bruce came home. The subject of the criminal clown had become a sticky one, and hearing his name now pulled Alfred back slightly. "He'll try to kill her."

"If she's lucky," the millionaire sighed and looked down. "I don't know what to do."

"You cannot try to save her, Bruce. You hear me?" The older man swiftly stepped closer to his sergeant son. "There will be cameras and police everywhere. That girl is being guarded just about as well as the President and you know it. If you seek her out, you will be caught. You know this." Alfred was unleashing every arsenal in his 'I'm old and wise' playbook to convince his young friend to listen to his pleas.

The young master didn't say anything, he didn't blink.

"I've already packed our bags. The flight leaves tonight at 9:15 PM." Alfred frowned. His friend wasn't responding to anything he was saying. "I scheduled an early flight because it airs at eleven. You will be there, promise me."

Bruce turned around and walked away without saying anything. Moments later Alfred heard the soft hum of one of the four sports cars being driven away.

**%%**

Bruce rolled to a stop outside the gated storage unit, one that Wayne Enterprise owned. The facility was kept under lock and key. After opening the eight foot fence and driving through, he parked behind a large tin crate to hide the flashy red car.

He needed some time as Batman, and not as Bruce Wayne.

After entering the clandestine storage unit he made his way to a table and pressed his palms into the cold glass top. Thinking for minutes, without moving a muscle, Bruce felt every civil duty swell up and he knew what he had to do.

Hurriedly, before he could change his mind, Bruce pulled the bulky bat suit on. He knew where he needed to go and once the Dark Knight was in control, he straddled his bike and took off in the direction of the news station.

Five blocks away from his destination, Batman was unable to sift through the streets. The crowd surrounding the skyscraper was massive. The super hero growled and pulled off into an alley before he was noticed by any member of the eccentric group.

Leaving the bike behind and hidden, the vigilante scaled the side of one of the neighboring buildings to get a bird's eye view. For a good two miles surrounding the news tower people were in hysterics. Some were chanting while others raised signs appraising Kathryn's cause. "Beat the Bat Out of Gotham", "Down with the Dark Knight" and "Dent Didn't Die in Vain" were some of the more creative signs.

Others were dressed in homemade costumes, mostly of Batman. Though, other costumes were of another familiar face—Joker. There were five members of the crowd who resembled Joker and his flamboyant clothing and makeup. The five imposters made Bruce's stomach sink.

%%

Kathryn was sucking on her fourth cigarette and patting her pocket where the one and only recording now was. She had copied it from the tape recorder onto a CD and then destroyed the original.

She wanted to make sure she was the only one with this story; this was her big break and no one else's.

If only her ambition was enough to subdue her nerves. It was all she could do just to keep her hands from shaking. The girl was nervous beyond sanity.

Ten police guards marched around the broadcasting room for her protection. Gotham remembered the pandemonium that broke out when someone last tried to reveal Batman's identity. The entire room, consisting of Kathryn, Douglas James, the tech crew and a select high paying audience, felt the thick air of fear creeping along. They were all afraid of Joker.

The reporter inhaled one last lung full of acrid smoke and then squashed the bud on the floor. Douglas James, the news stations oldest and leading anchor, would be the host for the program. He sat down behind a desk that was beside the cushioned chair Kathryn sat in now.

"OK, we're rolling live in five, four, three, two-" The cameras were on.

"Hello, it is 11pm central and I am sitting here with Kathryn Rosaline to bring you the story of the century." Doug tapped some papers on the desk and grinned at the camera before turning to shake his guest's hand.

She took his hand and nodded, "Doug." The woman had swallowed her nerves and was not shaking anymore.

"So, please, don't keep the world waiting. Tell us about your journey to learn the truth. What made you do this?" Doug leaned in, like the rest of the viewing world, and listened.

Kathryn felt a twinge of enjoyment as all of the lime light sparkled on her. "Harvey Dent's untimely death. He was a real hero and Batman killed him. This could not go unpunished. Dent was a friend and a leader to us all; Dent was the best thing to happen to this city and Batman took him away.

"Shortly after his funeral, I had a short list complied of possible murderers. Once I had my list, I went to work and I haven't looked back since."

%%

Outside the tower the city was watching as the image was amplified on the face of the building. The crowd had grown quiet, only to whistle and applaud Kathryn periodically.

Bruce was trying to drown out her voice. He didn't want to be reminded of how he had been used. Instead, Batman was looking across the sea of people, and over all of the surrounding buildings, keeping a keen eye out for any sign of disaster.

Just as Kathryn finished her list of criteria each of her suspects all had, the five Joker-look-alikes darted toward the building at once. They did it from different sides of the crowd, none of them within 60 yards of one another. They couldn't have seen the others move, and yet they all lurched forward in sync and with purpose. The Dark Knight felt his haunches go up; something was about to happen.

Suddenly the five imposters stopped moving, each now standing only 30 yards from the tower. Twenty yards ahead there were more onlookers, and the remaining ten was made up of the police line. Sighing in relief Bruce calmed himself, thinking that the five clowns wouldn't be able to pass the security line.

He was wrong.

An intense flash cracked the atmosphere; a thunderous clap followed and the crowd crippled. The bottom floor of the building had imploded and dust and shrapnel from the explosion was flung up into the sky, and into the crowd. The twenty yards of onlookers served as a tight buffer line for the look-a-likes and they went unharmed. With the cover of the explosion the clowns darted into the building. Panic infected all of the onlookers and as the massive crowd began to churn and run away, the five clowns ran forward, unnoticed by the wounded security line.

Inside the tower everyone held their breath as the entire foundation ruptured. The cameras remained rolling but the lights were snuffed out. The room suddenly became silent except for the sounds of people stirring in their chairs. Some were hopefully waiting for the lights to blink back on, or for the police force to tell them it was okay, but most were already fear-stricken.

"Everyone sit down!" One of the ten police officers shouted from his position at the east exit. "Remain calm and seated." He approached the stage to look out of the window behind it. "Nothing is going to happen; the situation is under control."

Suddenly the officer collapsed face first on the floor with a thud. He had been shot in the back of the head.

Panic surged through the room again as the audience attempted to stand and run out, but following the death of the officer six clowns walked into the room. The first five came in shooting, quickly popping off the remained nine guards, while the last walked in clapping.  
No one could see the new-comers, the lights were still off and only the stage, where the light from outside was shining through the window, was visible.

"We've interrupted your scheduled program to bring you," three spot lights spun around then located Joker, "me!" The audience collectively screamed and the lights were flashed on again.


	7. Example

A/N

AHHHH yea so I'm retarded. The chapter I posted yesterday was the EIGHT chapter

and this would be the seventh...yea....

I blame all that Turkey.

Anddddddd idk how long it would have been until I realized wtf I had done if my Beta hadn't pointed this out....

I'm so sorry for the confusion guess. SOOOO SORRY!

R&R

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"Now," the criminal walked over to the dead police officer who had been shot by the window, "listen to the nice man with the badge and stay seated." He giggled and moved the corps' jaw up and down before coldly dropping the dead man's face and standing. "And, for our viewing audience that is a part of the police force…know that I have three more bombs positioned in this building. So no hanky-panky, or this entire room full of people will go out with a bang!" He flashed a shiny red button on the inside of his coat to add to the threat.

The five other clowns, all of which dressed like their leader, now stood at the exits with guns. No one could enter or leave.

"Okkkk, lets get this party started! And where better to start than with the guest of honor?" Like an eerie owl Joker turned his head slowly, glared at Kathryn and then swiped his tongue over his lips.

The reporter was terrified. Her heart was beating out of her chest and her eyes were glazed over with fear as the adrenaline took hold. She stood up to run away, but the Clown Prince of Crime shoved Doug away and threw her small body behind the desk where the host had been.

The criminal tossed Doug's chair away and pushed the woman up against the table. He forced her to bend over so that her arms outstretched toward the crowd and her chin was resting on the table top.

The entire viewing world was now watching Kathryn cry hysterically.

"Please, don't hurt me. Pleasepleaseplease, don't hurt me!" Her speech was thick with mucus and sobs and her face became red and puffy. The camera, now being manned by one of the henchmen, did a close up of her face.

"Hurt you? HURT YOU? What a great idea!" The villain squealed and drew out a knife. Before the reporter knew what was happening he had stabbed the stout blade through the back of her hand and through the table.

The woman howled in pain and tried to jerk her other hand away. "No! No! I won't tell anyone, I swear! No no no no no!" Her long brown hair was now clinging to her tear streaked face.

Joker looked at the squalling girl without pity. He withdrew another knife and steadied Kathryn's hand on the table as he took aim.

Bruce watched on in horror as her torture was broadcasted on the face of the building. His stomach grew sour when he realized that this was also being played in every living room across the county. Everyone was watching Joker mangle Kathryn. Batman didn't waste any more time and began making his way toward the building.

"Where is the recording?" He looked down at Kathryn without a smile. This torture was not for his amusement, this bitch was being made into an example. No one would ever try to come forward with this information ever again.

"My pocket, my pocket. It's in my pocket." She stuttered and choked, finding it hard to form words into cohesive sentences.

Kathryn and the producers had planned this for the segment. After she had shared with everyone her story she would dramatically pull out the only copy and pop it into the recorder herself. However, now, the only copy was in the hands of Joker.

He held the CD, inspected it for a moment, and then ripped the disk in two. Everyone knew what was coming next.

"You're evil!" Some brave soul from the audience shouted.

"Evil? I'm not evil! This tramp is _evli."_He swung around to glare at the audience. They gasped and the brave soul remained anonymous_." _She is the one who wants to spill secrets, that is evil." His green eyes strained and glared down the entire audience. "And everyone knows how to deal with evil."

His gaze drifted back to the girl pinned to the table and smirked with malice. She was sobbing into her extended shoulder, rolling around on the knob and smearing her makeup. "You stupid bitch," the crazed clown hissed into her ear. "You think you can hurt him, endanger him?" He grabbed a fist full of Kathryn's hair and pulled back forcefully before laughing aloud, "Speak no evilllll!" With the serrated edge of the disk he sliced open the girl's cheek.

Kathryn kicked her legs and thrashed on the table, worsening her injured hands as a liberal down pore of blood pooled under her chin and onto the table. The reporter sputtered on her own blood as some of the crimson fluid dripped backwards down her throat. She moaned miserably and shook in agony. She was going into shock from the pain.

He took the disk and pressed it against the other cheek, dragging it slowly. Each slothful ministration of forward and backward sawing never had enough pressure to finish the deed. But, seven strokes in and Kathryn was a writhing mess of shrill screams and tears.

"Almost there," he grinned through clenched teeth and snapped his hand back with one last slice and her mouth was shredded. He pushed Kathryn's face into the table and rubbed her nose in her own blood. The red creamy substance mixed with saliva and tears was smeared all across the table by the time Joker was satisfied.

The audience members were going mad. Some of them cried for the release of Kathryn, and some had stood up to shout, but most of them were too scared to move. Others had become nauseous and the odor of vomit was pungent.

"But she's evil!" Joker whined in mockery at the crowd and stomped his foot. "Speak no evil, hear no evil and see no evil," he sang and twirled around on stage. When the clown stopped his dancing he turned to look at the camera. "Are you all hanging off your seats waiting in suspense? I hope so! This is good stuff," he pointed to the sobbing shell of a person left on the table.

"Oh, but don't get your panties in a bunch over that piece of trash!" The criminal raised his brow and lapped at the corner of his mouth. "She's just an example of what NOT to do. Don't try to out The Batman!" He cackled and raised his hands up in laughter. "You should take notes; there might be a pop quiz!"

After saying that, the clown spun around on one heel and stuck his hand in his pocket with a surprised look on his face. "What do we have here?" He gasped and pulled out a roll of duck tape, a box of matches and lighter fluid. Throwing half of the CD on the table near Kathryn's face he took aim. With one eye shut and his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth Joker squirted the flammable fluid onto the disk. The killer clown then lifted up the girl's blood soaked face and shoved a saturated sliver of the CD into her torn mouth. She was too far gone to realize her new danger.

"Oh, I love this part. It makes me all warm inside," he chirped in a delightfully dark voice and struck the match. Like a delicate candy treat Joker plopped the lit match into Kathryn's widened mouth and watched as the disk caught flame. Before the girl could scream the Clown Prince had her mouth taped shut.

"Speak no evil, ever again," he said with glowing eyes. Joker ignored the muffled screams of agony and moved about his merry way looking through his pockets for a pair of bolt cutters.

Meanwhile Batman was sniffing around the perimeter of the building, trying to find a way in without the police seeing him.

"Hey!" A voice grizzled with age called from behind.

He'd been caught. It was Gordon.

"Can you get me in?" The Dark Knight asked in his gruff voice.

"I think so. Follow me." Gordon led him behind a fire truck and toward the back. A door was caved in and caution tap was strapped around it. "The fire station said this entrance is a death trap. They won't let anyone use it, I figured you wouldn't mind."

Batman was about to walk through the caved in threshold when the police chief spoke up again.  
"Did she really know? Was she really going to tell the world who you are?"

The vigilante stood with his back facing the other man for a long while, but eventually said nothing and entered the building.

Walking through the lobby level of the crumbled building gave Bruce the time to think. Since the news station had been swarmed by Joker, he hadn't stopped to _think_ about Joker. He'd been thinking about how to get in, and how to stop this but had ignored the largest obstacle standing in his way.

Batman's gloved hand clenched into a fist as memories from the hanger came racing back.

'_He saved my life that night. I should be dead; he could have killed me, or even followed me home. I was at his mercy and he only gave me what I wanted. I did want it.' _

"I can't want that! I can't want him, or this, its wrong!" He bellowed in the hollow and dark lobby room. His voice echoed in the shell of a room and an eerie wind seeped through and pushed papers toward the back of the floor.

'_But I know I do want him. I want what we had that night because I know I can't have it with anyone else.'_

Bruce sighed and felt something in him twitch. He was not comfortable looking in, self reflection was always hard. Inside there was pain and death and loneliness but now there was something else and Bruce needed to figure it out before he reached the broadcasting station.

So, elevator or stairs?

There were only three exits in the broadcasting room. One clown stood station at the east and one at the west exit. Two watched the south exit, which was the elevator, and one was manning the camera. Each of the five had fully automatic guns strapped around their necks, and they were all too eager to use their weapons.

One of the clowns at the elevator noticed the bar on the floor scale was jumping up. Second floor, third floor, and further the bar climbed. "We got company." His partner took notice and stepped back.

Fifteenth floor, sixteenth floor, the imposter clowns squeezed the guns in their hands and readied themselves for whoever might be on the other side. Twenty second floor…_ding_…and the elevator had reached their floor.

"You ready for this?" One of the thugs asked in a whisper, but the other didn't have the time to answer before the silver doors divided.

No one was there. The elevator was empty.

"The hell," one of the clowns approached the elevator with his gun leading the way. He entered the small box and inspected it further until his was satisfied.

"Well?" The other man asked from outside the elevator. His friend opened his mouth to tell him there wasn't a damn thing in here, when Bruce dropped down from the above compartment.

Batman kicked the imposter clown in the head and then guided his face into the bar of the elevator. Before the second henchmen could react the Knight threw a tazer-like throwing star and the man dropped.

Neither the audience nor Joker had noticed the late arrival. Bruce had the unfortunate privilege of watching as the Clown Price clipped the last flap of skin from Kathryn's ears. This was sickening.

"All that's left is _see no evil_." Joker snickered and took hold of one of the blades in Kathryn's hand. With the hilt in his hand he rotated the knife from within her palm and then ripped it out. After repeating this on the other hand he tossed one away. Pointing the reddened tip of the other blade at the white of Kathryn's eye the criminal was ready to end it.

"Stop!" Bruce stepped into visibility and began approaching the stage. "Put the knife down, Joker. You don't want these people. You want me, remember?" Bruce was thankful for his mask because his facial expressions faltered as he talked about **wanting**.

Kathryn turned her head to look at the Dark Knight. Bruce could hardly recognize her through the torture and blood, her face was too mangled.

Joker grinned warmly and twirled the knife around between his lithe fingers. "I don't know. This one really needs to die, even you know that." Before the Dark Knight could argue Kathryn's life the insane clown had slashed her jugular and cut her life short. Her body slid off the desk and landed on the floor with a slick thud.

Bruce felt it right away, or maybe Batman felt it, but there was happiness. The vigilante hated himself for it, but he was glad to see Kathryn dead on the floor. '_I am like Joker.'_ The superhero felt sick.

"Now," the green haired man leaned on the desk, sticking his elbows in the now dead reporter's blood, "what were you saying?" He batted his eye lashes and swayed his butt in an inappropriate way.

Batman gritted his teeth. "Let these people go, and I'll go with you. I'm offering a trade." He felt nauseas and not because Kathryn had just been slaughtered, but because he was relieved she had been silenced. '_What's wrong with me?'_

"Hmm, and what a fair trade it is." Joker was glowing; tonight had turned out better than he had anticipated. He turned to the camera and cracked one of his wide and wheezing smiles. "Ok, that's our show. My costars here will return our studio audience but I'm afraid I won't be signing any autographs," he said and the camera was switched off.

Bruce watched as each member of the audience was filed out of the station and down to the fourth floor. There they would jump onto a rescue matt that the fire station had assembled. However, it wouldn't be long until the police found a suitable entrance and stormed the place. Until then, Joker and Batman were alone.


	8. Break Through

SO THIS IS THE ACTUAL CHAPTER EIGHT

…..I'm going to go crawl in a hole and hide until my embarrassment dies.

R&R

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CHAPTER SEVEN: BREAK THROUGH

"Stay right there." The hero warned angrily. He needed to stay aggressive, strong, in control. He wouldn't let this psychotic clown get the upper hand, regardless of how twisted things had become.

Joker took a big breath and rolled his eyes, as if he were sighing in defeat, but then took off like a shot. "Catch me if you can!" The criminal giggled and was gone in a flash. He might not have been very strong, but he could move.

Bruce ran after the shifty man through office after office and into a hallway until he reached a large room full of grey cubicles. The masked man growled in frustration. He knew Joker was in this room, he could feel it.

The cubicles themselves were hard to see—the lights were off in this room—and everything melded together. The Dark Knight felt like a rat sifting through a maze in search of a chunk of cheese.

"I always liked hide and seek," Joker squeaked from somewhere within the room.

Bruce twisted around to get a 360 degree view, but didn't see anything. "No more games, Joker! You're going to Arkham."

"Yadda yadda yadda."Again the hero couldn't pin-point the location of the other man's voice. "I don't wanna talk about Arkham. Let's talk about youuu and meee," he sang. "And how we're going to kill some time."

"You're sick." His voice was steady and deep, nothing to give away his anxiety.

"Have you thought about it?" It was a simple question, but Bruce was shivering before he could stop himself. "I know I have. Any time I want to _get in the mood _I just think of you, inside me, and all those pretty sounds you made. It gets me going every time."

The Dark Knight had resorted to standing in place, waiting to spot any movement but keeping his mind focused on the task was becoming difficult. Bruce tired to push thoughts of that night aside; he couldn't.

"Do you remember how you begged me to suck your dick, Batsy? I do. I also remember you saying you wanted to fuck me. Hmm, and you did. You fucked me so goooood," he squealed.

Bruce shuddered and started to grind his teeth. This talk was driving him crazy. "Shut up."

"Noooo! You can't make me give it up. It was too right to be wrong." The voice was closer now. "It felt so amazing." Closer still his disembodied voice grew. "I know you felt it, too. You liked it, and you want it again."

Before Bruce could react to the voice closing in, he was pushed to the floor with Joker on top of him. The crafty clown snatched up the corners of Batman's cape and held an iron grip on it. The super hero could not move his arms or legs.

"Tell me you remember!" The criminal licked his lips and yelled desperately, shaking his adversary. "Tell me you remember everything. You have to remember, you promised."

The Dark Knight lit up in a rage. "Get off of me!" He wasn't going to be a victim again.

The Clowns pasty face twisted irritably. That was not the answer he wanted. "Tell me you remember, goddamn it." He swung his head down and it collided with Batman's nose.

Bruce's vision went spotty from the blow. "Fuck you, you twisted freak! How could anyone forget that?"

Joker grinned a short little smile. "That's more like it."

"Shut up!" He thrashed around wildly and his shoulders slammed against the floor. He glared up at the criminal and hated the look of satisfaction on the other mans' face. "I want to forget! I'd do anything to forget." He said it trying to hurt the clown; it worked.

"Kathryn." The mad man said dejectedly. "Look where that got you! She hurt you. She used you!" Joker shouted and almost chastised the Bat. "Did you miss the sea of animals out there? None of them understand you, or accept you. They all hate you; they want to see you fall; no matter what you do for them, they will hate you."

Bruce tried to ignore the hurtful words from Joker, but he knew it was all true. He just wanted the criminal to stop talking. He stiffened and shut his eyes, trying to think of a way out of this.

"I love you." Joker said suddenly when Batman stopped moving.

"You're insane!" Bruce shouted angrily, coming back to reality.

"Actually, I don't really know how love feels." He continued as if Batman hadn't said anything. "But, I want you more than I've ever wanted anything else in this shitty world. So that has to means something, right?" He cocked his head to the side as he looked down at his foe.

"You. Are. Crazy." Bruce gritted his teeth.

"So are youuuu," Joker sung with a tint of laughter. "We're two peas in a warped pod, Batsy. Don't you get it?" His scared smile widened.

"I'm nothing like you!" The Knight tried to straighten up and jump forward as if he planned to bite the clown. He was sick of this argument.

"Yes you are," Joker said darkly. "Don't try to hide it from me! You're not nearly as interested in saving the innocent as you are with hurting the criminals. You get off on cracking a few ribs before you throw us away, don't you?"

Bruce growled angrily. He wasn't like that, he wanted to help people.

"Sure, you justify it by saying," Joker changed his voice to sound something of mock righteousness, "it's a necessary evil. I have to hurt them to save the good people." He narrowed his green eyes, "I don't believe it. You're just as fucked as I am."

"You don't know anything about me!"

"I know you looked a little too happy when Kathryn kicked the bucket."

Bruce opened his mouth to deny it, but Joker was right. He felt sick all over again.

"It's alright. She was a bad guy. She deserved it. That's what you were telling yourself, huh?"

Batman started shaking with blind rage. He couldn't think straight he was so angry. "Shut up! Just shut up!" He couldn't even deny it; all Bruce could do was yell.

"I knew it." Joker giggled.

"What the fuck do you want from me? Yes, I know the people will never appreciate me; I don't just do this for them, I need it too; and I am happy you killed Kathryn because I know I couldn't do it!"

Joker kissed Bruce solidly and lingered there until the hero exhaled. "What a break through! You're so beautiful like this. Just tonight, be honest with me, like that, because I'm not going to get another chance."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm with you, silly." He grinned playfully. "I'm not escaping. They'll catch me and I can't get away this time."

Bruce's intellect kicked in at once and he realized that the criminal had never planned on escaping. His features must have amused Joker because the clown smiled wider.

"Everything I did tonight was for you. I needed to protect you from that whore, and from the city. Think about it, tonight you saved all of those snobs in the audience, and you captured The Joker, they'll be grateful for a while longer."

'He's sacrificing himself for me.' Batman couldn't believe it. "You're serious?"

The criminal shrugged. "Even a clown is serious sometimes."

Bruce glared up at the villain. He couldn't describe what he was feeling, but he didn't have to. "Thank you."

Before the masked man could finish the last syllable of his sentence Joker had abandoned his iron grip on the cape and sealed their mouths together.

Bruce mumbled a protest to the other man, but it got lost between their lips somewhere. Just because he was grateful didn't mean he wanted this. However, Joker refused to acknowledge his request and slid his body against the vigilante.

The Prince of Crime tried to avoid that pointed tip on Batman's cowl and their teeth scraped together but the messy kiss was just what they needed.

"This is," kiss, "crazy." The Knight mumbled against red lips.

"Just enjoy it, Batsy."

Bruce, against his better judgment, took the advice. He jerked to the side and nipped and sucked at Joker's white neck until the clown moaned. Batman growled approvingly at the other man's mewling and flipped Joker over onto his back. If he was going to do this he needed to be in control.

The criminally insane clown squealed delightfully. "I like it when you get all aggressive and controlling." He arched up and mashed his ripped mouth against Batman's. Bruce parted his lips and stabbed his tongue inside Jokers torn mouth. He had the green haired man writhing and moaning like a virgin and suddenly the hero didn't think this was so crazy.

"Fuck, you're a good kisser, Bats." Joker panted and pitched his hips up to grind against Batman's stiff suit.

Bruce glanced down at the criminal with animalistic eyes. The intense stare made Joker squirm and he bit his ruby red lip. Batman growled and ducked down for another kiss but a noise jerked them apart.

"Joker, we are closing in. We have the building surrounded and a team is coming to you now. Go quietly and no one else will get hurt." It was Gordon on the buildings intercom.

Bruce looked down at the wanted man. Joker just smiled plainly, it was uncharacteristic of the ostentatious clown. His smile was not extreme or sinister or mocking. It was just simple, like he was satisfied and ready to give up. Bruce didn't like it.

"It was nice while it lasted, eh?" He stood up and Batman followed. Joker turned his back to the super hero and placed his wrists together behind his back.

"What are you doing?" Batman asked quietly.

"Cuff me, stupid. They'll be here any second. We can't be rolling around on the floor when they show up, now can we? They'd think you really lost it then."

"But you'll…I can't…

"Batsy, you don't have a choice. You can do it or they can. I bet you'll be nicer about it. " Joker wiggled his fingers behind his back and winked.

Unwillingly Bruce pulled out a pair of handcuffs from his belt and locked them around the criminal's wrists. Joker leaned against the vigilante's chest and sighed.

"They're coming to talk me away, ha-ha." Batman frowned. He gave the other man a departing kiss and left just as lights from the police forces' guns flooded the room.

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A/N ok so thats chapter seven

Seeeee I'm TRYING to update sooner! Yea, I know most of you don't even care if I update unless I post a chapter full of really kinky sex. I get it!

But, back to seriousness now, this story is almost done. I see two, maybeeeeeeee three more chapters and then its done. I already know where I'm taking it and I see the end of the road not too far away. Hope you all like it :)


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